


Middle of Adventure

by nauticalparamour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post War, for children, hermione can't believe it, marcus starts a quidditch league
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalparamour/pseuds/nauticalparamour
Summary: After his Quidditch career is cut short by injury, Marcus decides to start a youth league. When Hermione has to go pick up James, she doesn't expect to see the furious Flint is so great with children. Post-war.
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Hermione Granger
Comments: 171
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is my newest short Marcus x Hermione - it's going to be eleven chapters and you will get a new one every three days through the month of May. I really hope that you enjoy what I've got in store for you. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

Hermione Granger scribbled furiously, hoping to finish off her report before the end of the day. The stack of uncompleted - unreviewed even - work that towered around her desk menacingly made her efforts seem almost meaningless. Still, it was a good feeling to be able to scratch her signature at the bottom of the page, knowing that she'd given it her best work and that it was finally completed.

When she had joined the Ministry of Magic, she had hoped that she would be able to make some positive changes for the rest of wizarding society, only to be quickly disabused of the notion. It seemed that everyone in her department knew her reputation for getting things done, and her coworkers were only too happy to dump their work off on her desk and she kept doing it because, well...she knew that it was the only way to get things done.

The alarm on her wand buzzed again for the third time, and she cancelled the spell, irritated. Wondering how she'd managed to miscast her morning alarm so horribly, she returned to the work in front of her.

Happy with the report, Hermione leaned back into her chair, stretching her arms overhead. She rolled her neck from side to side. All that the report needed now was a quick proofread and then she could go home for the evening and snuggle in for an evening of muggle movies with Crookshanks.

She was half way through her edits when her wand buzzed again. Staring at it with narrowed eyes, Hermione agonized over what she was forgetting. She jumped out of her chair when her promise suddenly came back to her.

"Oh Merlin, James!" she said to herself, scrambling to grab everything she needed from her desk. "Oh, Harry is going to kill me."

Pulling her cloak on, Hermione walked as quickly as she could to the communal floos at the entrance of the Ministry of Magic, her heels echoing in the empty room. _Godric_ , she was going to be so late that she was certain Harry wouldn't even bother asking her to pick up James in the future, which was unfortunate, seeing as he could really use the help right about now.

She flooed to the address that Harry had given her to get James. Apparently, he'd been starting his son in flying lessons, even though he'd barely turned five. Hermione thought it was a touch ridiculous and wondered why Harry couldn't simply teach the boys, but she knew that he was very busy working as an auror too, so perhaps lessons just provided more consistent instruction.

When she arrived at the little building, she found it decidedly unoccupied and her heart sank. Hopefully the instructor hadn't gotten so fed up with waiting on her that he had called Harry or something. Oh, she'd never be able to forgive herself, even as she was just over thirty minutes late. Merlin, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this late.

Looking around, she decided to make her way outside to see if maybe the class was still gathered. After all, it wasn't as if you could teach flying inside. She exited the little building and looked around, quickly realizing that she was standing on a Quidditch pitch. Of course it wasn't even half the size of the one at Hogwarts, but there was no mistaking the giant rings.

And there on the other side was James, hovering on his broom while the instructor gave him gentle encouragement to push his broom into a slow motion dive.

Hermione's heels sank into the grass as she walked and belatedly she wished that she would have used some sort of cushioning spell to prevent her awkward gait. "Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly when she got to their sides. "I got caught up at work."

James's face lit up when he saw her and he nearly jumped off of his broom to give her a tight hug. "Aunt Hermione!" he said with a toothy grin.

"It's no trouble, I don't mind working one on one with the lad," came the grumbly voice of the instructor.

Hermione returned to her full height, her eyes trailing up from his feet past his chest to his face, only to gasp in surprise when she realized she knew him. He'd grown a bit of a beard, but there would be no mistaking Marcus Flint, former Slytherin Quidditch player.

"Flint," she said by way of greeting.

His eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't think you'd remember me," he answered.

"You are difficult to forget," she answered, before wincing at how awkward that sounded. "Anyway, thank you for keeping him late. It was unprofessional for me to show up so late without even an owl."

"Easy Granger," he said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. "You won't lose any house points here."

Hermione gave him a tight smile, feeling rather like he was making fun of her. She did not enjoy it one bit. "Well, James, we should probably get you home. I'm sure you're starving," she said to her honorary nephew.

"Yeah, dad said we are going to have toasties for dinner tonight," he said with the enthusiasm that only a five year old could have for melted cheese and buttered bread.

Flint began walking beside them. "So will you be picking up James regularly then?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye as they walked back to the over large shed that served as his office.

"I'm not entirely sure what Harry's plans are yet, but I suppose it could be a possibility," she said, tersely.

"I'll have to be sure to clear my schedule after practice then. Make sure there is someone to watch Jamie while we wait for you to show up," he said, fighting to hide his smile.

Unfortunately for Flint, Hermione did _not_ find that particularly funny. Giving him a glare, Hermione grabbed some floo powder. "I don't think you need to worry about a repeat. I am usually very punctual," she said with a frown, before throwing the floo powder in and calling out for Grimmauld Place.

The formerly dismal townhouse had been lovingly transformed over the years by Harry and now Grimmauld Place was warm and inviting upon entry. Hermione walked James up the stairs so that he could clean up a bit before his dinner, changing out of his miniature Quidditch gear and into regular clothes.

By the time that they were all finished, Hermione could hear Harry rummaging down in the kitchen. James excitedly ran to his dad, wrapping him up in a hug. Then he launched into a play by play of everything he had learned that day, both at school and at his practice.

Little Albus smiled upon seeing her and Hermione gave the three year old a quick hug and kiss on the top of his head, before pouring him a little bit of pumpkin juice to go with his dinner. She could practically hear her dentist parents scolding her for giving him juice so close to bedtime, but she knew that the tiny little bit wouldn't hurt him.

Harry invited her to join for dinner, which she was only too happy to do considering she hadn't done the shopping for the week and her flat was sadly devoid of anything edible. The four of them ate happily and once they were done, Hermione helped Harry get the boys into bed before joining him in the library for a nightcap.

"Flint owled me," he said, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"Blast," Hermione whispered under her breath. She was hoping that she might just get out of having to tell him that she was late picking up James all together. After all, the little boy hadn't even seemed to realize that he hadn't been picked up when he should be. "Er, I'm really sorry Harry. I just got so caught up at work. I swear, Stanhope gives all of the Department's work to me."

"You shouldn't let him push you around like that," Harry said sternly, not liking her coworker one bit. "You know you could always transfer to the DMLE."

"I don't know...I am finding myself less and less enamored by my job," she said with a frown. "I'd really thought that I was going to be able to improve things for magical beings and creatures, but...there is so much red tape it feels pointless."

"It's fine, by the way," Harry said, ruffling his already perpetually messy hair. "James is pretty in awe of Flint right now, so I don't think he would have cared if you never picked him up."

"Flint? Really?" she asked, thinking back to the mean boy she had known at Hogwarts. "Are you really sure that you are okay with James idolizing someone like him?" she pressed.

"Yeah, he's alright, actually," Harry said with a shrug. "He's a surprisingly patient teacher. I was skeptical when I first found out that it was him running this little Quidditch league, but James begged and begged and then I couldn't say no. I watched the first practice and I've got to say that I was...pleasantly surprised. Marcus is great with kids."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at that statement, thinking that Harry must be confused. "Marcus Flint is good with children..." she repeated, not sure if she could ever believe what he was saying. "Harry, when we were at school he stole a beater's bat from his own teammate and sent a bludger at you that nearly sent you to the hospital wing."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, not particularly bothered. "It was just Quidditch," he said. "It's not anything personal."

"He's not exactly the picture of sportsmanship then," she said, still not wanting to accept what Harry was telling her. "Do you really want him teaching such underhanded, _Slytherin_ tactics to James?"

"You sound like Ron," Harry chastised her.

"Please don't compare me to him," Hermione said, not wanting to be reminded of her ex-boyfriend. She and Ron had not been suited as romantic partners and mutually agreed to part ways in their early twenties. She had been perfectly happy as friends, but it seemed that Ron could not stand to see her date anyone else and their relationship quickly soured.

"Look, if I thought that Marcus was teaching James any bad habits, you _know_ that I would pull him from the Quidditch League in a heartbeat," Harry explained. "But, it's one of the only things that makes him happy right now, so I am not going to hold Flint's childhood behavior against him."

Hermione softened, knowing at all three of the Potter boys were going through a tough time at the moment. No one had seen Harry and Ginny's divorce coming, but apparently things had been tense between the two of them for a long time. While things had started off amicably enough at first, Ginny now seemed intent on dragging the proceedings out as long as possible, if only to make things as difficult as possible for Harry. With all the solicitor meetings, Hermione had offered to help Harry out as much as she could.

"How did it go today, with Ginny?" she asked quietly, hoping that it wouldn't upset Harry too much to talk about.

Harry sniffled slightly in response. "I don't understand how someone I once loved so much could become so vicious and cruel," he said with a frown. "It seems like she is only doing things to hurt me, and doesn't even see how much it hurts James and Al, too."

"They'll get through it," she said, hopefully. "They have a great dad who is looking out for them. And...it will be difficult, but I think that they will understand someday."

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a nod. "Thank _you_ for all your help with them, too."

"Even if I'm late," Hermione added, still feeling terribly guilty that she'd forgotten about James and then tried not to tell Harry about it.

"Even if you're late," Harry agreed, with a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am always so excited to see so much love for Marcus! This is one of my favorite pairings to write. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three in a few days!

Marcus Flint had certainly never expected to be running a Quidditch League for children when he'd been at Hogwarts. He could barely manage to put together his assignments for classes, let alone coordinate classes for all age ranges under eleven. But, it's where he had ended up.

Initially when he left school, he'd had trials at many of the professional teams across England before being offered a spot on the Falmouth Falcons. They didn't care if he had barely passed a single NEWT even after repeated testing. All they cared about was that his arm was good enough to score.

He'd been there a couple of years when the war broke out. Marcus had no interest in offering his wand to the Dark Lord (not out of some love for muggleborns, just, he didn't see the point in supporting him. It wasn't as if you could ever get rid of muggleborns). So, instead of being roped into something he didn't want, he fled to Italy to play Quidditch.

Italy had been fantastic. The food was a great deal better than what he ate in Falmouth and the witches were pretty and Quidditch was Quidditch. Except for the absolutely atrocious way that they pretended to get fouled all the time — divers, the lot of them. The club had even managed to fix his teeth when a rogue bludger knocked his old ones out.

But Marcus couldn't really complain.

Not until he took a bludger to the head one too many times, and even though they were able to magically heal the damage, there was still recovery time involved. As he got older the recovery time took longer and after a while, the club just couldn't really afford to keep him on his wages if he was going to be spending his time in with the trainer rather than out on the pitch. They had to let him go. He was still a little salty about that.

So, he'd packed up and headed home to England. When he received exactly zero offers to come join any of the squads there, he knew that he had to face the facts. His career as a professional Quidditch player was over.

Marcus was crushed. He'd never wanted to do anything in his life except for play Quidditch and when it was no longer an option, he just didn't know what to do with himself. He was still too young to be a coach, not to mention he had absolutely zero experience outside of his captaincy of the Slytherin team. He knew that he could whip school children into a team from his time at Hogwarts...just look at Malfoy! He'd taken someone who'd only managed a spot on the team due to a generous donation from his father into someone who could _actually_ pass as a seeker.

Thinking about Malfoy and his ferrety little second year face gave Marcus the idea of coaching children to gain some experience, only there weren't any leagues for children outside of school and he doubted that Professor Hooch was going to be leaving Hogwarts anytime soon.

But then he'd wondered...why shouldn't there be leagues for children? Why should children be reliant on the dubious skills of their parents at home until they went off to school? He could provide them with everything they would need to make sure that they did well on their first school team and it would mean he wouldn't have to give up the one thing that gave his life purpose.

So he'd started this Quidditch League for children, and he'd been doing it for two years now. He was surprised by how much he actually enjoyed working with the children. None of them thought that he had troll's blood, or that he was mean, or had any preconceived ideas about who he was just because of his family name. It had brought him more joy than he could have imagined seeing his little students improve over the course of the "season".

He even found himself longing for a child of his own one day, if he was honest. He'd have to find a witch first though.

He never expected to be running a Quidditch League for children, but Salazar he was good at it.

Only, he wasn't so great at running the business side of the equation. He'd been staring at the pile of bills that had been stacking up on his desk wondering just how he was going to pay them all. He'd already burned through the majority of his savings that he'd built up when he was still playing, and he knew that he couldn't use any more or else he'd end up with nowhere to live.

At this rate, no matter how much he loved the Quidditch League, Marcus had to face the facts. He just didn't have the money he needed to keep it running and he was going to have to shut down after the end of the season. And then, who knew what he was going to do.

Locking up his little shed office for the evening, Marcus flooed over to his local pub where he'd agreed to meet Adrian. He found the tall former-chaser-turned-solicitor holding a pint and half way through a game of cricket. Ordering his own drink, Marcus downed half the pint in one go, wondering if he was going to be able to shake off this miserable feeling long enough to be any fun that evening.

"Marcus, mate, what's wrong?" Adrian asked when he noticed his friend darkening his dart board. "You look like someone killed your cat."

Apparently not.

"Almost," Marcus answered with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "I think I've got to shut down the league. I was trying to work through the money tonight and...well, I just think it's time."

"But you love the league," Adrian countered, before throwing his darts in rapid succession.

"Yeah, I do," Marcus said, pushing down the lump that had formed in his throat. It wouldn't do to go crying to his friend. Adrian had known him for years, but he wasn't exactly the most compassionate wizard in the world. "Just add it to the pile of things I am a failure at."

Adrian snorted at the joke. "I don't really see this as you failing with the league, just more...money management, you know?" he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know how you could stand all those squealing little children. I've got three of my own and look at me - hiding out at pubs just to avoid them."

Marcus knew not to argue with his friend. It felt far too vulnerable to tell him that he envied Adrian's little family. "I just can't give up Quidditch," he said with a frown. "I don't really know what I'm going to do without it."

"I'm sure you'll find something," Adrian said. "I bet you could find something in the Magical Games department."

Pessimistically, Marcus knew that they were unlikely to overlook his lack of success on his NEWTs, but he supposed that it couldn't hurt. Also, he knew he was due a seat in the Wizengamot if he wanted to claim it now that his father had died, but it wasn't as if that came with a salary. It would fill his time, sure, but it didn't pay the bills.

"I'm dreading telling the kids most of all," Marcus said, wanting to get the focus off of his lack of job prospects as quickly as possible. "Some of them are as mad about Quidditch as I am. James Potter is going to be so crushed."

Adrian made a noise in agreement. "Can't imagine that he has much else to look forward to right now," he said, before summoning his darts back to him. "Have you seen what they've written about Weasley in the papers? I never would have taken someone from her family to be such a fortune hunter. The Weasleys always seemed content with what they had."

"Maybe she wasn't as content as she put on," Marcus said, trying not to judge too harshly. "But, I've spoken with Potter now and again and he made it out to be that she is just twisting the knife because she can."

"Rough," Adrian said in agreement. "Let him know I'm available if he ever needs another solicitor to look something over. Another beer?"

Marcus made a noise of agreement, before offering his empty pint to his friend. He wasn't sure if Potter would be happy to accept Adrian's help or not. Marcus hadn't expected that the other wizard would even want anything to do with him though, and he'd been surprised. Once Potter had made sure that he would do a good job with his son, he'd backed off with his do-gooder Gryffindor attitude. It was...nice to put aside any animosity from school now that they were adults.

It seemed that Granger hadn't done the same. Potter must not have given her a heads up that _he_ was the instructor at James's lessons, because when she saw it was him there was no hiding the look of contempt reflected in her eyes. He wondered a bit what her problem was because he didn't remember ever doing anything to _her_ , just to Potter, and well...if Potter had forgiven him, why shouldn't she?

In any case, Marcus could see the bright side in closing the Quidditch League would mean no more chances of accidental run-ins with the muggleborn witch. He didn't need to put up with being disrespected by her, even if he had secretly liked the way she looked while doing it.

Adrian returned with his beer and Marcus turned the topic of conversation to happier subjects - Cassius's stag weekend. Adrian had been boasting about a weekend that would last in memory for years to come, long after his wedding to Adelaide Murton. Adrian was convinced that his party would outdo any wedding that Adelaide would be able to plan, even her own wedding. Based on some of the details he was hearing, Marcus thought that Adrian might be right.

After another two beers, though, it was time for Marcus to return home to his flat for the evening. When he'd returned to England after the war, he'd purchased a flat in a not very fashionable part of wizarding London, but it suited his needs and it had been a good price. There was no way that he intended to return to the home that he'd grown up in, no matter how much his mother had begged him. Once she passed, he would just sell it, he figured. Too many bad memories.

Feeling a little bit drunk, he pulled out a scrap of parchment before scribbling out a message to Potter of all people telling him about the need to cancel the Quidditch League at the end of the season. He wasn't sure why, but he felt worst of all about letting down little James Potter. It wasn't as if Potter would need to hire a private flying instructor for James, seeing as Potter had been more than a talented Quidditch player in his own right. He could just do it himself.

But, Marcus couldn't deny that James did have the makings of an excellent chaser some day, and he made a mental note to keep tabs on him once he went off to Hogwarts in a few more years.

Retreating into his bedroom, he shucked off his shirt and pants before trudging to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He tried not to feel too melancholy about the situation, but he couldn't help but feel like a fuck up. Like everything good that he touched went to ruin. It was just typical that this was happening.

Why did some wizards have all the luck?

But, he knew he'd bounce back somehow. He always did. Flopping back amongst the pillows on his bed, Marcus was already half-dreaming when he hit the mattress, his mind filled with coming back out of retirement, lifting the League Cup for Falmouth or whoever would take him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so excited to see all the love for Marcus x Hermione - seriously, one of my all time favorite ships. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four in a few days!

In the end, the straw that broke the camel's back was Stanthorpe taking credit for her work for the umpteenth time. Seeing him soak up all the praise from their director like he'd actually done _anything_ on the werewolf bill that they'd put forward - the bill that she had worked so hard on for Remus - made Hermione snap.

The words "I quit!" were out of her mouth before she'd even fully formed the thought in her mind.

She knew that it was wrong of her, but she couldn't help the surge of pleasure when she saw the way that Stanthrope's face paled when he realized that his little workhorse would no longer be available to him. Hermione completely ignored his pleas to think it over while she packed up her desk into her bag and stomped her way out of the building.

Her ears were rushing with the sound of her blood in her veins pumping away while she was still full of adrenaline from her dramatic exit. She barely had time to think about what she'd done let alone what she was going to do. It had been a long time since she had done something quite so reckless and she hoped that the way she had left the Ministry wouldn't sour her future job prospects. She had a fairly decent savings built up, but it wasn't as if she could just retire now.

After going home and changing out of her work clothes, she knew that she would lose all her confidence if she stayed at home with her own thoughts. Penning a quick note to Harry, she decided to meet up with her friend and her two adorable god sons for dinner.

When she waltzed into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Hermione forced a smile on her face. "I've finally gone and done it, Harry. I quit that terrible job at the Ministry. I wasn't going to let Stanthrope use me for another _minute_."

"Yeah," Harry said with a tight look on his face. "I don't know if you are going to like to hear this, but I had heard it. The news has already traveled through the rumor mill."

"Oh, Godric," Hermione said, before sinking into her seat and pouring herself a glass of wine from the open bottle. "What are they saying about me?" she questioned. Hermione wasn't stupid - she was an ambitious and accomplished witch and it made her more than her share of critics. For some reason, some people just wanted to tear down any successes she had, so she was sure that there were some doozies.

"Mostly it sounds like you were trying to take credit for Stanthrope's work and you freaked out when he called you on it," Harry told her with a wince. "That's the main one."

"That little toad," Hermione muttered murderously, wishing that she'd given her former coworker a piece of her mind before she left.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Harry offered. "Just wait a month or two, once the output of your former department slows to a standstill, and then you will be vindicated."

Hermione didn't share Harry's optimism. Surely they would just find another thing to blame her for. Maybe they would say that she had sabotaged things on her way out. It would be typical in her opinion. "I hope so," she told him.

"So, what do you think you will do now? Want me to put in your name for a DMLE post? There are a couple mid-level postings that I think you'd do well at," he suggested, just putting the finishing touches on their pasta dish.

"I'll think about it," Hermione said with a sigh. She wasn't sure that she wanted to jump right into a job. Especially one at the Ministry. Perhaps it would be better to let the rumor mill settle down a bit. But, she was especially skeptical about joining the DMLE. She'd had enough of dark wizard catching as a teenager. "But, maybe I'll just take a break for a few weeks. I mean...I haven't really had a break since I left school."

"Maybe even before you left school," Harry said, knowingly.

Hermione blushed under his scrutiny. "I suppose that might be more accurate."

With dinner plated, Harry looked at James sadly. The boy had been sitting on the floor, bouncing a quaffle off the wall, looking dejected. "James, can you please join us for dinner? I am sure that Aunt Hermione would like to see more than just your back," Harry asked gently.

James's shoulders dropped, but he did trudge over to his spot at the table, next to Hermione. He stared at the pasta on his plate, but made no move to eat any of it.

Hermione was concerned about the poor little boy. "James, what's happened?" she asked him softly. "Why are you so unhappy today?"

"Quidditch League has been canceled," he said dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest in an angry move. "And I am very upset. Quidditch was the only fun I ever got to have."

She highly doubted that Quidditch was the _only_ fun that James ever got to have, but she knew better than to argue with a five year old who was quite so blue. Looking up at Harry in question, she wondered what could have led Flint to cancel his lessons. He seemed to have really enjoyed his work there, from what she saw and from what Harry had told her.

"Flint owled us the other day," Harry said with a sad look on his face. "He's dissolving the League at the end of the season. So, you see, James, you'll still have two more weeks of Quidditch before it's over," he tried to explain to his son.

James wasn't having it.

Hermione bit her lower lip. "I wonder why he's done it. It seems a bit sudden, doesn't it?" she asked, even though she realized she didn't actually know much about Marcus Flint at all. Maybe this wasn't out of character. She just thought that he loved Quidditch, but maybe he'd gotten a better opportunity. "Is he going to come out of retirement?"

"That's not the impression that I got," Harry said. "It sounded like it had more to do with finances, if I'm honest."

"Well, I'm sure finances can be fixed," Hermione said, although not sure why she was wanting Flint to keep his little League open. Well, aside from the fact that it would make James happier than anything in the world. "Maybe he just needs a little help with it."

"I'm sure that it's a lot of work, Hermione," Harry said, a bit dismissively. "I mean, he runs the whole thing by himself. I'm sure that he puts a lot of time and energy into it, and maybe it's just not worth it anymore."

Hermione was never one to take hard work as an excuse not to do something though. "That's true. But, perhaps he just needs a little help to get things sorted out properly. I mean, someone who has experience planning things, coordinating, and someone who is good with numbers. If Flint had someone to take some of that burden off of him, I bet he'd have more time to devote to something he loved."

"And are you suggesting that person be you?" Harry asked her skeptically.

She floundered for a moment, thinking over what he was suggesting. She hadn't really realized it, but yes, she was thinking about herself even though she wasn't really thinking about the reality of working with Marcus Flint. "Why not? I've got a lot of free time on my hands all of a sudden," she said tersely.

"Well, for one, you were just telling me about what an underhanded Slytherin he was not even two weeks ago," Harry said with a snort. "But not only that, you don't particularly like Quidditch."

She shrugged her shoulders. "You were right. It was wrong of me to hold Flint's past against him, especially after so much time has passed. You've convinced me that he's a changed man," she said. She did feel a little bit badly still about making all sorts of assumptions about the tall wizard when she hated when people did the same to her.

"And the Quidditch?" Harry pressed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't see what about helping Flint out would mean that I would have to hop on a broomstick," she said with a snort. "I'll just...I don't know, offer to take a look at his books. I'm very good with numbers."

Harry remained unmoved. "I don't know, Hermione..."

"What is the harm in offering?" Hermione asked, wishing she knew why Harry was making this so difficult. "I'm just going to offer Flint a bit of help and the worst thing that he could do is say no."

"Flint might not enjoy being seen as one of your little pet projects, Hermione," Harry offered constructively.

Hermione was irked at the suggestion. "Little pet projects? Harry is that what you think of my work?" she pushed.

"Of course not," Harry rushed to clarify. "But you have to see this from Flint's perspective. From what I've heard, your last meeting with him was less than pleasant and now he is going to see you swan in and offer help? He's very proud and I don't think he will like to have you rub his failure in his face."

She could understand where Flint might be coming from, but she certainly didn't see him as a charity case. More just someone who could fill a little time in her now wide open schedule. "I'll be cognizant of that," Hermione agreed, softly. "But, look on the bright side, Harry. Maybe with a little bit of help Quidditch League doesn't need to shut down."

James brightened considerably upon hearing _that_.

"How would you like that James? Don't you want Aunt Hermione to try and save Quidditch League?" she asked her godson with a bright grin on her face.

Harry did not share his son's enthusiasm. "Don't give him false hope, Hermione," Harry scolded. "Or _you_ can be the one to explain to him why it was canceled a second time."

Hermione flushed, realizing how cruel it would be to string along the little boy's hopes and dreams for the future. She didn't want to give him false hope, but she didn't see how Flint could possibly turn down her offer.

After they had finished their dinner, Hermione returned to her empty flat. She was buoyed with her new plan to help Flint save his business. Pouring herself a second glass of wine, she sat at her desk in her home office. Pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment and her quill, Hermione leaned back in her chair and began brainstorming the best way to approach him. Harry was right. She didn't want to embarrass him - she wanted him to take her up on the offer.

Agonizing over the wording of her note for a good while, Hermione finally put quill to parchment and carefully crafted her offer letter to the mysterious Marcus Flint. While the ink was drying, she read it over once more just to be certain it was perfect. Satisfied, Hermione gave the note to her owl before sending it off into the dark, inky sky.

Changing into her pajamas, Hermione went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, unable to wipe the smile off of her face. There was absolutely no way that Flint wouldn't accept. She'd get to swoop in and save Quidditch League and play the hero in James's eyes. She wanted to make the world better for people, and if she couldn't do it for magical creatures and beings, at least she could make it a little bit better for James Potter.

Tucking herself into bed, Hermione was sure that she would wake up in the morning with a letter from Marcus Flint, enthusiastically taking her up on her offer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I am honestly so pleased you all are enjoying the pairing because it's one of my all time favorites to write. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter four and be on the lookout for chapter five soon!

When Marcus first received Granger's note, he'd had to rub his eyes and read it again, wondering if he had perhaps fallen asleep and this was some kind of awful dream. But, when he had confirmed that it was in fact real, he'd gotten to work writing back the most scathing, terse reply that he could possibly muster. Marcus had hoped that his rude note would be enough to scare little Hermione Granger off ever reaching out to him again with her insulting offer of help.

So then why was she stumbling out of his floo into his shed office, having swept in like the swirling wind? And why did she look so annoyed with him?

"Flint," she said by way of greeting. "I need to speak with you."

Marcus leaned back in his seat, holding his head in his arms. Letting his eyes trail over her, he realized that he had never seen Granger look this casual _ever_ , not even when they had been at Hogwarts together. She was wearing a pair of those _jeans_ that muggleborns and some halfbloods seemed to favor, and a threadbare, overly large jumper - familiar and well worn. It almost looked as if she had stumbled out of bed and threw on the first thing she could grab before flooing over.

"Salazar, Granger. Did you honestly come here as soon as you woke up?" he sneered at her, hoping to scare her off.

She blushed - rather prettily, if he was honest, but he wasn't - obviously having been caught. Her hand absentmindedly checked her now wavy hair, perhaps checking for some imagined bedhead that would have given her away. Her face hardened once she reminded herself of her task at hand. "I don't think that you gave my offer the proper amount of consideration," she said.

"This isn't a negotiation, Granger," he answered, knowing that he'd be amused if he wasn't so irritated with her offer. Gryffindors were always such do-gooders and he didn't want her help because she felt bad for big troll Marcus Flint.

"Listen, I've just left my job at the Ministry so I have loads of free time-"

"I don't want your help just because your schedule is suddenly wide open."

"-and I'm actually _very_ good with numbers. I got an O in my arithmancy NEWT-"

"Look at who's showing off then? I don't give a shit about your NEWTs."

"-so I am _sure_ that I can handle something as trivial as finances for a _Quidditch_ League."

She was looking at him rather triumphantly, as if she had just won some kind of debate with him. In reality, though, her obvious disdain for something as _trivial_ as a Quidditch League only got his hackles up more than ever. He didn't want Hermione Granger's help, especially not when she thought she was lowering herself just to do it.

He stood to his full height, hoping to intimidate her a little bit. Closing the distance between them, he gave her his best glare, one that used to have Malfoy pissing in fear. "Granger, this is not up for argument. I'm not giving you something to do just because _you_ got fired from the Ministry and now have loads of time on your hands," he growled.

"I didn't get fired-"

"Merlin! You are so stubborn. I thought you were supposed to be _smart_ , Granger. I don't want your charity," he said, forcefully. He couldn't believe that she was still trying to argue with him, and he wondered just how someone so tiny could be such a huge pain in his ass.

Granger it seemed was not used to this sort of rejection, and he could see her growing angrier and angrier while she processed his words. "Well, fine then. I hope you _do_ go out of business then," she snarled back at him. "I didn't even want to help _you_. I was only offering because of James, but now you couldn't pay me enough galleons in the world to help you out, Marcus Flint!"

It seemed that she would get the last word, because before he could even formulate an equally hurtful response, she was stomping back through the fireplace to wherever she had come from.

When she was gone, Marcus fought the smile on his face. Granger was an annoying Gryffindor, yes, but it was awfully fun to rile her up like that. It was as if you could practically feel the magic sparking off of her body.

The image of her flushed with her hands on her hips, chin jutted up in the air was burned into his brain whether he wanted it to be or not. By the time that it was time to close up for the day - still without a grand plan to save his Quidditch League - he still hadn't stopped thinking about Hermione Granger, not even when he flooed over to the pub.

Cassius had come along with Adrian this time and they were sat in a booth discussing the pros and cons of holding the stag weekend in Copenhagen rather than Ibiza. Marcus didn't really care _where_ they went, so long as there was lots of alcohol. Telling them as much, he left the table to grab another round of pints.

He must have zoned out a bit, because Adrian was smirking at him when he finally came back to the conversation. "Who has got _your_ head up in the clouds?" he asked, acting as if Marcus hadn't had a girlfriend in his life.

"Hermione Granger," he answered, without thinking of what the suggestion really meant.

"What?" Cassius asked, blinking owlishly at him. "Hermione Granger?"

"Not like that," Marcus said, with a flush, even though he hadn't been able to stop wondering just how far into her jumper her blush went. "I just mean...well, she came to my office today. It was pretty rude actually. Insulting me...acting like some fucking saint who had graced me with her presense. Why wouldn't I take her up on her offer?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Mate, you are going to have to back up and explain this a little bit more," Adrian said with a laugh, completely unclear on what Marcus was trying to say.

"Well, you know how I've told you that I'm going to have to shut down my Quidditch League due to the state of the finances?" Marcus asked. "Well, Potter _must_ have mentioned something to Granger, because before I know it, she is whirling into my office and practically demanding that I let her help me sort them out."

"And you've...turned down her offer of assistance?" Cassius asked, cautiously, still trying to piece together the jumble of Marcus's words.

"'Course I did! I'm not some bloody charity case," he said, darkly. "Besides, she's probably just desperate for a new job now that she got fired," Marcus added, even though he believed that she was partially doing it for James.

"I'm sorry, mate, but that's the dumbest thing that I've heard today," Adrian said with a frown. "And I was in deposition with a witch who tried to say that she didn't think draught of living death would kill her husband."

"What?" Marcus asked, not really understanding what Adrian was saying - just that he thought he was being stupid.

"And Granger didn't get fired, she quit in the most spectacular fashion," Cassius said with a grin. "Stanthrope's been using her to do his work for years now and she finally snapped. I don't think I've ever seen a wizard look more concerned when she walked out."

"Oh," Marcus answered. That _certainly_ hadn't been the rumor that he'd heard. "Good for her for standing up for herself, I guess."

"And who cares if she thinks she's being a saint for helping you with your books?" Adrian said, trying to get the topic back on point. "You want to keep running your League, don't you? Let her have a look and give you some free advice and then take it if it's smart. It's not as if you have to make her a partner."

"I just...I don't like to be made a fool of," Marcus said, darkly. He took a big drink of his beer, slumping further into the seat. He knew what people thought of him - thinking he wasn't that bright - and he hated it.

"If anything, Granger is terribly sincere," Adrian responded, knowing that Marcus was feeling very sensitive about the topic. "It's not like she is secretly making fun of you. If she wants to help, she probably just really wants to help."

"Yeah, and she's rather fit, isn't she?" Cassius asked, wagging his eyebrows dramatically. Adrian swatted him on the shoulder. "What?"

"I was making a compelling argument and you had to come in with your lame assessment of her looks?" Adrian argued.

"Sure, sure, she is sincere and kind and willing to help Marcus, so he should just accept it," Cassius said, waving him off. "But it's not as if I'm wrong. She is rather fit."

Marcus had to bite his tongue to stop from agreeing with Cassius.

"She did date Krum after all," Cassius added.

"Really?" Marcus said, finding himself quite surprised with that bit of knowledge. "Can't believe this is the first I'm hearing of it." Krum certainly had his share of witches throwing themselves at him, being the Quidditch phenom that he was. Krum and Granger didn't seem right together though - after all, he was so sporty and she was so smart.

"Yeah, once during the Yule Ball and then after she broke up with Weasley for a while, too," Cassius said. "I guess they are still good friends."

"Why do you know so much about Granger's dating life?" Marcus asked, wondering just when Cassius had become such a wealth of knowledge.

Cassius looked affronted. "I can't help it if Witch Weekly always writes articles about her!"

"Fine, if that's what puts it over the edge, I guess we can acknowledge Granger's attractiveness. At least you won't have to share an office with a hag," Adrian said, before turning back to Marcus. "So, when are you going to tell her you agree to her help?"

The fearsome former chaser suddenly felt quite embarrassed. "Well, I don't think she'd agree to help me _now_ ," he said with a guilty grin. "It's just...when she came to my office earlier I told her that I didn't want her help, not now and not ever. And well, before she left she said I couldn't pay her enough to help."

Adrian and Cassius shared a look between one another, one that Marcus didn't quite understand. "Oh, that's nothing," Adrian said with a laugh. "You'll be able to convince her to help you and you won't even have to pay her a knut."

"How?" Marcus asked, dumbly, thinking that he'd rather burned that bridge, and further wondering just when his two friends had convinced him to actually take Granger up on her offer.

"It will take significant groveling," Cassius explained. "But, with enough platitudes about how you can't do it without her, she will be falling over herself to help you. Just play up to her ego, Marcus."

He was still not entirely convinced that Adrian and Cassius's tactics would work on a witch as smart as Hermione, but at this point he was really willing to try anything. He could at least admit now that she was likely his last resort if he wanted to keep his business running and he really did. He had found a job that he loved and he wasn't ready to give it up so quickly.

"Worth a shot I guess," he said, shrugging his massive shoulders.

With Marcus's witch troubles sorted - as Cassius said - they could finally get back to the real topic at hand...his stag weekend. But, Marcus still found himself distracted, wondering how he was even going to get face to face with Granger long enough to grovel to her to see if she'd give him a second chance.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione hadn't even wanted to entertain Marcus Flint when he showed up at her door. There was nothing that would have given her more pleasure than slamming the door in his face, but he'd used his considerable strength to stop it from closing. He pleaded with her to let him come in - to apologize.

Finally, she gave in, mostly just because she had neighbors and she didn't like Flint causing a scene out in the hallway.

He'd spilled into her flat taking up far too much space with his broad shoulders and fierce look. Immediately, he started telling her what a mistake he'd made by yelling at her and confessing that he was just too proud to accept help. Initially, she had stuck to her guns and told him to find someone else to help him.

But then, he'd dropped to his knees in front of her — which was ridiculous because he was still nearly as tall as her, even _on_ his knees — and actually _begged_ her to help him save his Quidditch League, and...she had just melted.

Of course she would help him save the Quidditch League. Not just for James, but for Marcus Flint, too.

But, the following Monday she nervously stood in front of her fireplace, wondering if Flint had played her. What if this was all some kind of elaborate joke being played on her? It would be embarrassing, she supposed, but the hope of actually doing something good had her stepping through the fireplace and into Flint's office.

The tiny shed that he was using was made all the smaller by an additional desk pushed into the corner opposite his. Flint was seated behind his own desk, eating a massive plate of breakfast and looking surprised that she was actually there.

"You're early," he said with a slight blush once he'd finished his mouthful of fried tomato.

"Better early than late," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. She didn't think that she was _that_ early.

"And so dressed up. This isn't the Ministry, Granger," he added.

Hermione looked down at her jumper over a collared shirt and jeans. She thought this was about as casual as she should be in a work environment, but looking at Flint's athletic wear she wondered if she hadn't miscalculated. Still, she wasn't going to apologize about what she wore when it wasn't inappropriate. "Sorry, I forgot my Quidditch uniform at home," she snarked back with a roll of her eyes. "Just show me where you keep your financials. I agreed to help you, but we don't need to become great friends or anything."

Hermione felt a bit badly, then, when she noticed the slight look of hurt on Flint's face. He'd certainly changed since Hogwarts. It wasn't that she was afraid of him when she was at school, but there was something sinister and menacing about him always, and privately, she thought that the rumors about him having troll blood might not be far off.

Now though...well, he was still an imposing man, that was certain, but it wasn't as if he was a frightening Slytherin bully any more. He'd grown a beard and let his close cropped hair grow a little longer. His grey-blue eyes reflected amusement more often than not. Dare she say she might actually find him a little bit attractive?

Shaking her head, Hermione slipped into the desk that he'd prepared for her, placing her bag by her feet. When she looked up, Flint was caring over a stack of loose papers and parchments and he dropped them onto the desk with a heavy sounding slap. Hermione sighed when she saw the absolute lack of any organizational system that he had.

"Thank you, Flint," she said politely.

"Thank _you_ ," he countered. "I've obviously never had a head for this kind of stuff." He paused for a moment to look at her. "If we are going to be working together, though, I think it's only right that you call me Marcus."

"Sure, _Marcus_ ," she said, trying his name out. "You'll call me Hermione, then."

He gave her a short nod, before returning to his own desk, leaving her alone with her massive pile of work. This wasn't that different from the Ministry, she thought disappointedly. Privately, she was wondering why she'd gotten the idea to do this again. Remembering James's excitement when she promised to save Quidditch League, Hermione dove into the documents, intending to just get everything in order first.

They worked fairly quietly with one another, with Flint leaving the office after an hour or so to go teach a lesson to some children who looked to be around seven. Hermione leaned back in her chair so she could look out the window and watch. Even though he must seem like a giant to the little kids, it seemed that they all adored him, running around the pitch chasing after him on their tiny brooms. The sight was enough to soften Hermione's heart.

Marcus reentered by lunch-time and let her know that he would be ordering in from one of the nearby pubs if she wanted to get something. Thinking that it probably was a good time to take a break, Hermione agreed and ordered herself a turkey sandwich.

When it arrived, they both came to the realization that they were having lunch together and neither of them really knew what to say to one another. Eventually, Marcus asked her about Harry and how she was helping him out with the kids. "Well, I am James and Al's godmother, of course, so it only makes sense that I help him out while he's having to work through everything with Ginny," she explained. "But I absolutely adore them, so it's not too much of a hardship for me."

"Seems like they like you as well," Marcus answered. "Potter is lucky to have you as a friend."

Hermione was touched by the sentiment. "Oh, I'm sure he'd do the same for me if I was in a situation like that," she said with a smile.

When lunch was over, Hermione finally was ready to get into the details of the financial records of the Quidditch League. She was able to to tally up the expenses easily enough and was pretty pleased with what she found. Marcus seemed to be frugal, but selected quality products that would last for a long time rather than just the cheapest option. Overall, she didn't find any red flags of spending that would obviously need to be cut out.

However, she was finding it impossible to find any information on the revenues. Marcus had given her absolutely no documentation about the fees or how he was paying for all of it.

Waiting until he came back in from his afternoon practice, Hermione knew that she needed to get to the bottom of it. "So, Marcus, I have found one big issue in the financials," she said, standing from her desk. "It doesn't look like you've given me any detail on the revenue, so it's a bit hard for me to understand the business. I'll need those, too."

Marcus looked like a deer in headlights, never expecting to be asked about that. "Um, there are no revenues," he said, looking down to the bag of quaffles that he carried in.

"Well, I mean, I suppose you aren't making a profit off the business right now, and that's fine," Hermione said, not judging him. It had only been open for a year or two, so she didn't expect him to be raking in the galleons. "But, you must have some money coming in from players fees, right?"

"No, I don't charge the players any fees," he said, looking like he didn't really know what to do with himself under her scrutiny.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, completely confused as to why he would do that.

"Just doesn't seem right. A lot of the kids that come here might not be able to afford Quidditch if they had to pay fees," he explained. "It's already an expensive sport - racing brooms, gloves, uniforms. I didn't want to cut anyone off from the experience."

Hermione was sure that she never would have guessed that underneath all of his scowls and snark that Marcus was really just a big softie. "That's admirable," she said, rewarding him with a smile. "But you could charge families who are able to afford it and then offer need based scholarships or grants or something to help the families who can't."

Marcus shook his head. "I don't want anyone to feel embarrassed to have to ask. I'm not going to start charging fees," he said, resolutely.

"Are you taking donations then?" she asked, still not understanding how he'd managed to keep this running for so long.

"I mean... I'll take a donation if someone happens to make one," he told her. "I'm not going to turn away money. But I don't ask for them either."

Hermione bit her lower lip. "I just don't understand...how are you paying for all of this if you don't take fees or donations?" she asked.

Marcus turned away from her to put the quaffles away. "My inheritance, and some of the savings I had from my pro career," he said casually, though she could tell from the tightness in his shoulders he was somehow defensive about it.

Crossing the distance between them, she carefully placed her hand on his shoulder to get him to look at her again. "That's very generous of you Marcus," she said, holding eye contact with him. "But you have to realize that it's not sustainable."

"Of course it's not sustainable," he said. "I've got to close it down now, don't I? I can't keep it running any longer the way that I have been. It's hopeless."

Hermione almost could not believe that this was the same Marcus Flint who'd dressed up as a dementor to frighten Harry one time. Of course, everyone matures, but she was seeing a completely vulnerable, caring side to Marcus that she never would have imagined existed. Now more than ever she wanted to be able to help him continue doing what he loved.

"It's not hopeless, we will just have to make some adjustments. Either start asking for fees," Hermione offered, knowing that he probably wasn't going to go for it. "Or, we can do some fundraising. I'm sure that a lot of people haven't even heard of your Quidditch League. I know I hadn't. And I'm sure some of those people would like to give a bit of money to kids who just want to play Quidditch."

"I don't want to be begging for charity," he said, suspicious of what she was suggesting.

"You won't be begging," Hermione said, unable to fight back a smile. "I was thinking of something more like a fundraising gala. You know, fancy dinner, dancing, and tons of wealthy wizards who are dying to give away galleons to improve their image. You know, people like Malfoy."

Marcus _did_ laugh at that. "Alright, you've convinced me to at least give it a try," he said. "But I wouldn't know the first thing about planning a _gala_ , let alone what to even wear to one."

"You just leave that to me," Hermione promised him. "I'm not necessarily a party planner, but I am a planner and I've been to a lot of galas in the last...oh, ten years. I think that I can throw something together that will work."

"Just...don't get my hopes up too much, okay Granger?" he asked.

Hermione felt her heart clench a bit at that. She really wanted to make this work for Marcus, now more than ever. "You really love this job, don't you?"

"At first, it was just a way to keep Quidditch in my life," he explained. "But now...now I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather be doing."

She was surprised to hear that, thinking that he would go back to a professional job in a heartbeat. But, it was obvious that he cared about the children he worked with - enough to put his own money on the line. She knew that she would find a way to make it work for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! More intrigue in this chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven in a few days.

Marcus quickly learned that once Hermione had set her mind to something, there was really no use to standing in the way. After she had looked at his books and he'd stood firm on not charging students to play in his league, Hermione had gone about planning a fundraiser.

It was going to be a dance and a fancy dinner, as she'd explained to him. Marcus never would have thought about even _attending_ one of those, let alone hosting one himself. But, Hermione assured him that it would be successful if she was in charge and that with enough firewhiskey and champagne, wizards would be practically throwing galleons at him, especially for Quidditch.

And, he found himself trusting her.

She was quite efficient at what she did and he could completely understand why she had done so well at Hogwarts. He'd never met anyone as organized as she was. He'd never seen anyone get as much done as she could. He'd never seen a witch give such a blistering fire call before, that it even had him feeling nervous - and he wasn't the poor sod who'd messed up the permit!

All in all, Marcus could admit that she was glorious.

He found himself heading into work with a spring in his step that no longer had to do entirely with the Quidditch. At least half of his good mood could be attributed to the tiny witch that he shared his office with. While previously, he would spend as much time out on the wet grass as possible, Marcus found himself cramming into the sad little shed if only because it meant spending more time with her.

He delighted in making her laugh, loving the way that her nose scrunched up when she tried not to. She wasn't anything like the spoiled little know-it-all Malfoy had always made her out to be. She was kind and wicked and ambitious and she had a mean streak if her delight in her former Department's floundering was anything to go by.

Hermione Granger had become much more attractive than the little buck toothed terror he remembered from his time at Hogwarts. He'd barely been able to see her face through all her hair, but then again she'd been thirteen so he obviously hadn't been interested at the time. But now, she was haunting his dreams with her lower lip biting, hands pressed to her hips in defiance when she yelled down that week's contractor. She wore baggy jumpers that had the unintended consequence of revealing an eye full of cleavage in a lace bra that he couldn't stop thinking about, but also didn't have the heart to warn her about even though he knew it was the right thing to do.

Marcus Flint was utterly enamored with Hermione Granger and he knew that he would beg her to work with him one hundred times over if he had to do it again. He wanted her in his life.

The only problem was one Harry Potter.

Marcus had never had a problem with the boy-who-lived twice once he'd left Hogwarts. He'd been bloody irritating to play against, having been blessed with a natural seekers ability paired with a burning hatred of Malfoy. He'd been nearly unstoppable. But, once Marcus had graduated, he hadn't spent too much mental energy on Harry Potter.

Then James Potter had been signed up for a Quidditch League and their paths crossed again. From their brief interactions, Marcus thought that the Head Auror was alright. Potter didn't treat him any differently for having been a Slytherin or for having a father who'd been a Death Eater.

Now, though, Marcus _hated_ Harry Potter.

It seemed clear to him that now that Weasley was on her way out of the picture, Potter would be looking for a mother figure for his two boys. It seemed even more obvious that Hermione was the candidate. She already spent a lot of time with James, escorting him home after lessons, and she frequently talked about spending dinners at the Potter home.

The thought had his stomach turning.

But, because he was some kind of horrible masochist, he couldn't help but dig deeper into the wound. He had an almost impulsive need to talk to Hermione about Potter at every chance that he had.

Marcus found her at her desk, the feather end of a quill between her perfect lips while she poured over the invitations she was going to be sending out for the fundraiser. He'd seen her do it six times already, but she insisted that it needed to _perfect_.

"Dinner plans with Potter tonight?" he asked when he returned to the shed from the pitch, having just finished with the nine year olds. He noticed that she was wearing a thin blouse that day, and she normally made an effort to dress up if she was going to be meeting him.

Hermione looked up at him, before leaning back into her chair. "Merlin, is it that late already?" she asked, looking at the clock on the wall. "Um, no, I think that Harry is working late tonight. There's been a big case recently that he's been all secretive about."

"Oh? Wouldn't you normally watch the little ones then?" he pressed, knowing how much Potter was relying on her for childcare. Did he properly appreciate the witch and all she did for him, Marcus wondered?

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "No, they are with Ginny," she explained. Then she dropped her head to her hands. "Ugh, but I just remembered that I've got absolutely no food at home. Do you know of anywhere good around here?"

He thought about it for a moment. "There's a little place near the water if you like fish?" he suggested. "Or the pub I get lunch from."

"I love a bit of seafood," Hermione answered, her face brightening. "Want to go with me? I'm starving."

Marcus floundered for a moment, realizing that Hermione Granger, his dream witch was asking him to dinner. Of course, she wasn't _asking_ him asking him...she just wanted a bit of company, as...as colleagues.

"I mean, of course, please don't feel obligated. I'm sure you've got plans," she added, a pretty blush on her cheeks.

"Nope, I've got no plans," Marcus said quickly, before giving her a big broad smile. "I'd love a bite before I pop home."

Hermione gathered her bag for the day, before waving her wand at her desk so that the mess was a bit more organized. Then, she offered him her arm so that he could side-along her to the wharf.

They made the walk to the restaurant in silence, before quickly putting in their order at the counter. Once they'd received burning hot fish and chips, Marcus found them a table with a view of the castle.

"Falmouth is so beautiful," Hermione said wistfully, popping a chip into her mouth before licking her fingertips to soothe the heat.

"It's easy to fall in love with," Marcus agreed. "Once I moved here, I knew that it was where I wanted to spend the rest of my time. Though mother is always insisting that I return to the family home once I have a witch and some kids."

"And do you want that?" Hermione asked him, sounding genuinely interested.

"To live with mum?" Marcus asked, amused. "Hell no. Once she's gone I'll probably just sell the place."

"I meant a witch and kids," Hermione teased. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as was her habit and her eyes darted down to her meal. "You are so good with them."

Marcus chuckled. "Witches? Uh, I'd have to disagree with you there," he teased back.

"Not witches," Hermione laughed, her nose scrunching up in delight. "Kids I mean. I was...surprised to see how good you are with them. You are so patient and fun. And James practically idolizes you."

"Yeah, I do like teaching them," he agreed. "I haven't thought too much about having kids of my own...I'd have to convince a witch to have one with me first, and we've already discussed my poor skill there. But...yeah, it would be nice."

Hermione looked away again, her cheeks going a bit pink. "I don't think _convincing_ would be as difficult as you might think, Marcus," Hermione chided him. "I am sure that you've had your share of witches. You were an international Quidditch star after all."

"Yeah, an international Quidditch star with troll blood," Marcus said, self-deprecatingly.

She blinked at him once or twice. "I don't think you've got troll blood, Marcus," she said, sweetly as though she wanted to say more. She cleared her throat. "And I've fought a _real_ mountain troll, so trust me, I would know."

Marcus couldn't hide his smile from her. It was nice to know that she didn't think of him that way, even if he was no Harry Potter. "You say James idolizes me, but I'm pretty sure it's you he idolizes," Marcus said, needing to get the attention off of him. "He's always talking about his Aunt Hermione."

"Well, James and Al are pretty special to me," Hermione said softly. "And, they need all the more love right now because of what's going on with Harry and Ginny."

"I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you," Marcus said, his voice a bit sterner than he was intending.

"James?" Hermione asked, amused.

"No, Potter."

"Oh, well, Harry and I have been friends forever," Hermione explained. "I'd do anything for him, and he'd do the same for me. I think we both know how lucky we are to have each other."

Marcus sighed, not able to stand talking about how wonderful Potter was any longer. Mercifully, his basket was empty and their impromptu dinner was over. He had no excuse to spend any of the rest of his evening with her.

"Do you mind if I use your floo home?" Hermione asked. "I'd rather not apparate back to the office and then home."

It felt far too intimate to bring her back to his flat, but Marcus knew that he could not disagree either. The spent the short walk back to his flat in silence once again while Marcus mentally ran through the state he left it in the morning. He didn't _think_ it was too messy, but he couldn't be certain. Not to mention, he had no idea what Hermione's standards were.

She looked around his place curiously, though she tried to pretend as if she wasn't. Standing in front of his fireplace, it seemed almost like she didn't want to leave. "Well, I had a very nice time at dinner tonight, Marcus," she said, bouncing on her heels. She gave him a brief, hopeful look, before shaking her head when some imagined moment passed. "Um, see you at the office tomorrow. I hope you have a good night."

Marcus was barely able to wish her a good night in return before she was throwing the floo powder in and stepping through to her own flat. His imagination ran wild with what her place might look like and how she might unwind at the end of a long day.

Shaking his head, he knew that was dangerous territory. He was going to end up with his heart broken by Hermione Granger if he wasn't careful.

A hoot from the open window in his kitchen caught his attention and he found an owl waiting there for him. Expecting it to be a formal invitation to Cassius's stag weekend, he waved the owl away once he pulled the letter from it's leg. Setting it on the counter, he rummaged in the cooling cabinet, looking for a beer.

Once he had taken a long drink, he looked back at the letter that had been delivered, wondering what kind of shenanigans Adrian had come up with this time. Only, then he noticed the seal and it was definitely not from Adrian Pucey, but instead from the Falmouth Falcons.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight in a few days!

Even though she never would have dreamed it, Hermione found herself quite infatuated with one Marcus Flint.

He wasn't anything like she expected. At first, she had written him off as a mean, tricky Slytherin who would do anything to win, much like he'd been at school. But, Harry convinced her that he'd changed long enough for her to agree to work for him, and she quickly confirmed that he was right.

She often found herself pulled from her work at her desk so that she could stare out the window of the office and watch him teaching his students. He was so carefree and patient with the children, even when they all climbed on him and dragged him to the ground, laughing. He would indulge them dramatically, with a smile on his face all the while.

Next, she assumed that he would be nothing more than a Quidditch obsessed idiot. After all, Marcus himself seemed to insist that he had nothing else to live for _except_ for Quidditch, but she quickly learned that was not the case. He spent a lot of his time with Pucey and Warrington, but he was also interested in the local history of Falmouth. Once they had taken a walk at the castle during their lunch and he was able to tell her all sorts of facts about the magical history completely offhand.

And finally, she never expected that she would have grown to be physically attracted to him. Yes, Hermione could admit that she had a _type_ as Ron put it. There was no secret that she had exclusively dated Quidditch players in her life and they all tended to be tall and well-built. But, Marcus was so much more than well-built with his broad shoulders and strong looking arms. He was imposing, commanding even, in stature.

Combine that with his stormy grey-blue eyes and dark hair and she was smitten. His fixed teeth were an improvement as well, though he still smiled like someone with bad teeth, constantly trying to hide them from view. It had taken her a while to grow out of the habit herself, having grown up embarrassed by her overly large front teeth.

She found herself enjoying coming into work at Marcus's little Quidditch League more than she'd ever looked forward to her job at the Ministry. And it was a job working with Quidditch! A sport that she...well, she didn't loathe it, but she certainly didn't enjoy it either. She wondered what that said about what she had put up with while she was at the Ministry, and about her self-esteem. She had gotten so used to being treated poorly that Marcus's basic respect felt bigger than it really was.

And, the reason she enjoyed her work there only had a little to do with the burly man who ran the league and her crush on him. There was something truly wonderful about helping so many children try a sport that they clearly loved in a more organized way than just being taught by their parents. She already had ideas about expanding it to muggleborns who wouldn't even hear about Quidditch until they went off to Hogwarts, but she knew that it would take additional work to figure that out seeing as families typically weren't notified until they were eleven.

But that was work for another time. At the moment she was completely focused on just keeping the Quidditch League alive long enough to survive. She had been using Marcus's remaining meager funds (and some of her own, though she wasn't about to tell him that) to plan the best fundraiser the Quidditch world would have ever seen.

She hoped that it would pay off.

Then, once it was over and Marcus no longer needed her help, she would decide what her next steps were going to be.

In the meantime, she was just enjoying Marcus's company. He was actually quite funny and he made her laugh every day while they shared their lunches in the shed office. She tried desperately to flirt with him, but it seemed as if all of her attempts went right over his head.

Hermione had even asked him out to dinner once and while he agreed, Marcus was just too obtuse to realize that she'd been wanting to go on a date with him rather than just as two colleagues who went out solely because of their proximity. She'd even invited herself into his home to use the floo and for some dumb reason she hoped that he might kiss her goodnight, but he didn't seem interested.

She couldn't tell if she just wasn't as good at making her feelings known or if Marcus just wasn't interested and was trying to let her down gently. Wistfully, Hermione wished she had a friend like Lavender Brown who might be able to give her advice. She certainly couldn't talk to Harry about this!

In any case, Hermione was shocked when Marcus asked her to flat sit for him while he went off on Cassius Warrington's stag weekend to Copenhagen. Apparently, he was worried about his old cat being left alone so long. "Everyone I'd normally ask is going to be on the trip with me," he'd said, scratching the back of his neck. "And I don't trust a service. I've got a guest room."

The former Gryffindor was only too happy to accept his request and returned home with him one Thursday night before he left so she could meet his cat. The cat was an old, mangy looking thing with all black fur, affectionately named Bludger. Hermione scooped him up in her arms and was delighted when he took to her immediately. Seeing that Bludger was in good hands, Marcus could leave knowing that he would be well taken care of.

The guest room was nice, but obviously unused. It did not appear that Marcus had many guests over. Hermione settled in for the night and got up early the next day to go to work. But, by the Friday evening, she was unable to help herself from exploring Marcus's flat a little bit more.

Bludger followed her around, as though he knew that she was snooping, clinging to her legs and moving between them as she walked, but never getting in the way. Marcus's room was surprisingly spartan, but nice. He had a huge pile of laundry that was nearly spilling out of his closet while the rest of the room was somewhat mess free. Maybe he'd only left it that way because of his packing. She didn't find any evidence of a witch in his life, which did fill her with a small bit of hope that she might still be able to catch his eye.

Once she was done, Bludger and Hermione went to the kitchen to prepare some dinner, before settling in front of the fire to read a book before retiring for the evening. It was quite pleasant, and Hermione thought that the only thing that would make it better was if Marcus was there to join her.

She must have been reading far longer than she thought, too engrossed in the book to notice the late hour. It meant, though, that she was treated to a rather drunk fire call from Marcus and his two mates.

Marcus was all smiles, uninhibited thanks to the alcohol that they'd surely consumed, and his face was flushed pink. "Oi, sorry, hope we didn't wake you," he said in a rush, his words just slightly slurred.

"Show us what you're wearing Granger!" Warrington shouted from the background, his face just barely visible.

Hermione stood from the settee and kneeled in front of the fireplace so she could speak to them better.

A groan of disappointment was heard, and then Hermione heard Adrian Pucey whispering not nearly as quietly as he thought he was. "She's not even wearing pajamas!" he said. "I wanted to see Granger in her knickers."

"Hello to you, too, Pucey," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Sorry to inform you, but you won't ever be seeing me in my knickers."

Pucey shoved Marcus to the side so that he could address her directly. "Yeah, but would you show Marcus your knickers?" he asked. "He wants to see them, too!" he sing-songed, clearly drunk off his arse.

Hermione laughed when Marcus shoved Pucey back, clearly embarrassed. Knowing that they were all unlikely to remember this in the morning, Hermione decided to tease them a bit. "Maybe if he asks me nicely, I'd show him," she teased, biting her lower lip, wondering just when she'd become so bold.

She could hear the oohs from Warrington and Pucey on the otherside and hid her laugh behind her hand. Warrington was shoving to the front then, his blond hair in an absolute state - it looked like he'd had a beer or two poured on his head, which she supposed would be par for the course where he was concerned. "It's my stag weekend! If anyone is going to see a pretty witch in her knickers, it's going to be me," he said, with a huge grin on his face, as though that was some kind of logic she couldn't argue with.

"Piss off, Warrington," she said with a laugh. She'd worked with him at the Ministry and while she didn't dislike him, they certainly weren't friends and she certainly had no interest in stripping down for him just because he was getting married.

Marcus was shoving his two friends out of the fire call then, instructing Pucey to get Warrington to bed. When he returned, he was still flushed and smiling. "Sorry about them," he said. "They get all sorts of funny little ideas in their heads."

"It's no problem," Hermione answered, not offended by their antics. "I wouldn't expect less from a lads weekend."

"I just wanted to make sure everything was going okay. Is Bludger behaving himself?" he asked, before running his fingers through his dark hair. "Shit, maybe I should have waited to call when I wasn't so drunk."

"Everything is fine, here, Marcus," Hermione said, before turning around and grabbing his cat to show him. "Bludger and I were just enjoying a relaxing evening in. I'll let you know if anything comes up, but you don't have to worry about it. We're doing just fine."

Really, it was sweet for him to worry and she could tell that he loved his cat a lot. It reminded her of how much she had cared for Crookshanks when he'd still been alive.

"If you need help with _anything_ , just let me know," Marcus said, his face going serious.

In the background, she could hear Pucey saying something rude. "Yeah, maybe if you need help getting _off_ , he'd love to lend a hand," he teased.

Hermione tried not to laugh too hard, seeing just how embarrassed Marcus was growing at his two friends' jibes. "Of course, Marcus," she said, hoping to be reassuring. "Just enjoy your weekend!"

He wished her goodnight and then he ended the fire call, leaving Hermione sitting alone in his flat. The room suddenly felt very empty without Marcus in it.

Seeing that it was now after two a.m., she decided that she should probably go off to sleep. Changing into her pajamas, which were not overtly sexy (no matter what Warrington and Pucey were imagining) she wondered if Marcus might have actually liked to see her in them, or if his friends were just teasing.

But what had given them the idea to tease her about it then? Had Marcus said something about his potential interest in her? A witch could dream, she supposed.

So far, he hadn't really given her any indication that he was interested in her in any way outside of their very cordial work relationship. Climbing into bed, Hermione smiled when Bludger hopped up beside her and curled into a little ball. Scratching him behind the ears, she sighed, letting her mind wander to the bright, carefree smile Marcus had worn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying Cassius and Adrian...they are good friends and fun to write! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine in a few days!

If Marcus knew little about fundraiser dinners, he knew even little about what to wear to one. When Hermione had asked him, she must have seen the vacant look on his face while he mentally ran through his closet, trying to come up with _some_ acceptable outfit that he owned. Somehow, he didn't think that sweatpants would fly. In any case, she informed him that he would have to wear dress robes, and if he didn't own any, well he'd just have to go out and buy some.

Marcus wasn't going to just go out on his own to buy dress robes though, as he was certain he'd end up looking goofy. Instead, he enlisted the help of both Cassius and Adrian, knowing that they could steer him in the right direction. Adrian wore suits pretty much every day as a solicitor, and he always looked sharp.

Once Adrian heard what the occasion was for, he insisted that they go to his personal tailor. They went over one of Marcus's lunch breaks, to the impeccable shop in the expensive part of Diagon Alley. The tailor was a tiny, shriveled old French man who looked...concerned, to put it lightly, at the size and proportions of Marcus. Still, he insisted that he would be able to make miracles happen.

"So, the fundraiser is only a week or so away," Cassius said casually. A bit too casually.

"And?" Marcus asked.

"Have you thought about who you might ask as your date?" he prodded.

"I think I'm going to be too busy...schmoozing, as Hermione put it, to be entertaining a date," Marcus said. If he was honest, he hadn't even thought of the prospect of bringing a date with him. There weren't too many witches he _could_ ask, and there was only one he really wanted to go with, but he was sure she'd be bringing someone else.

Adrian gave him a rather sharklike smile, which generally meant he'd just gotten a very nasty idea. "Why don't you ask Hermione to go with you?" he suggested.

"Granger?" Marcus wheezed, not expecting his friend to have said that at all. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?" Adrian pressed, clearly not impressed with Marcus dismissing his _brilliant_ little plan. "She knows that you will be busy schmoozing and will probably be doing it herself. So, she will be understanding if you can't give her all the attention that some other witch might expect."

That _did_ have merit, Marcus thought. Hermione would definitely not expect him to be doting on her all night long. The thought of taking her was appealing, to say the least. "I guess so," he said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "But I bet she's already taking someone else."

Cassius and Adrian shared a look between them. "You'll never know for sure unless you ask her," Cassius said, encouragingly.

"Yeah, but I mean...I think it's pretty obvious that she's into Potter," Marcus tried to explain. He'd seen the pair interact several times and they seemed to know each other so well. It was obvious that the pair cared for one another _and_ Potter's children loved Hermione. She was the most obvious choice now that Weasley was out of the picture. "I'd guess that she asked him. No need to look like a total knob and ask her myself."

"Potter?" Cassius asked with a laugh. "No offense, but I just don't see it. And remember, I know _all_ the hot gossip at the Ministry. If Potter and Granger had even _sneezed_ on one another, I would already know."

Marcus wasn't sure what to say about that. Cassius was a terrible busybody. Honestly, it was a wonder he even _had_ a job at the Ministry considering all the time he spent listening to and spreading rumors. But, he didn't want to get his hopes up that there might not be anything between Hermione and Potter after all.

Adrian took it a step further. He barely even looked up from the fabric samples he was reviewing. "Besides, why would she ask Potter when she is so clearly interested in you?" he asked.

The dark haired wizard wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, but he was so tangled up in measuring tape and sharp pins that Marcus knew he could do nothing but stand on the podium and blush. Why would Adrian suggest something like that? Was his friend just trying to make fun of him because he was so obvious in his feelings? "I don't know what you are talking about," Marcus said firmly, keeping his gaze straight ahead. He thought he might just die of embarrassment if he actually made eye contact with Adrian or Cassius.

"Listen, I wasn't _that_ paralytic during our first night in Copenhagen," Adrian said, with the authority of someone who _knew_ what he was talking about. "And I know that we firecalled Granger and even more so I know that she was flirting with you."

"She wasn't flirting with me," Marcus scoffed. "She was just being polite...more polite than she should have been, really. Just putting up with my drunk antics."

"Mate, she said that if you asked nicely you could see her in her knickers," Cassius said with a laugh. "Trust me, that was flirting. Salazar, when was the last time you went out with a witch?"

"It's been a little while. I've been so focused on my work that I haven't had much time for dating," he explained. "And it's never really been my strong suit."

"Marcus, I say this in the nicest way possible - you are an idiot," Cassius said with a groan. "The poor girl has probably been throwing you all sorts of hints for weeks and you've just been too dense to pick up on them."

Marcus floundered, unsure of what to say to that accusation. "Okay, say she was flirting with me," he stammered, as he was certain Hermione hadn't done anything of the sort. "Who's to say that _I_ want anything to do with her?"

The room was silent for a moment after his pronouncement, but then Adrian and Cassius shared another one of their _looks_ and then they were both laughing loudly at him.

"Marcus, I have never been more certain in my life that you like Hermione Granger," Adrian said with a grin. "I'd bet my first born's life on it!"

"Not to mention the five minute long oratory you gave us on her lower lip!" Cassius added.

Marcus felt his blush deepen. He certainly did not remember _that_ part of the stag weekend. But, he could see it happening if he got enough beer in him - her damn lips and all the things he wanted to do with them had been keeping him up at night.

"That doesn't mean that I like her," Marcus lied. Oh, he did like Hermione Granger. He liked her _too much_.

"Ask the witch to the party," the old tailor said, between the pins in his teeth. "We can all see that you like her."

"Well, now that that's decided," Adrian said with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do it when you get back from lunch and I will buy your dress robes."

"I charge a very high rate, Mr. Flint," the tailor quipped again.

" _Slytherins,_ the lot of you," Marcus said with a scowl, but he knew that he would pretty much have to do it now that they had twisted his arm. He was pretty sure that they would never let him live it down if he didn't.

When he left the tailor, he stopped to grab a sandwich at the Leaky Cauldron, if only because he hoped that Hermione might be out when he returned. After dragging his feet long enough, though, he floo'ed back to the shed.

Hermione was sitting in a beam of sunlight, looking fucking angelic when he arrived and he felt his heart stutter when her face was transformed by a smile when she saw that it was him.

"So, how was shopping?" Hermione asked, setting her quill down and giving him her undivided attention. "What color robes did you get?"

"Ended up with grey ones," Marcus said. He'd deferred to Adrian's expertise in that matter. He would have just picked black.

But, Hermione seemed pleased to hear it. "I can't wait to see them," she said brightly. "I'm sure that they will look great, especially with your eyes."

"My eyes?" he asked, thinking that they weren't anything too special.

Hermione's eyes dropped to the table in front of her then, unable to keep eye contact with him. "Well, yeah," she said, tucking some hair behind her ear. "You've got really nice eyes, Marcus."

 _That_ was probably the best omen that he was going to get to push him into asking her. He wasn't sure if she was trying to flirt with him or not, but maybe Cassius and Adrian had been onto something. Grabbing a chair, he set it down in front of Hermione's desk so that he could face her.

"So, I was thinking," he started, hoping that he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. "What are your thoughts on bringing dates to the fundraiser? Should we go together?"

Her head snapped up at that. She looked surprised, but not offended. "You want to bring me as a date to the fundraiser?" she asked.

"Yeah, I figured that it would kind of make sense for us to go together," he said. "You don't want to be dealing with some wizard when you are trying to get donations."

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows furrowed together. "So, like, so colleagues then?"

"I mean, we could go as colleagues if you wanted," he said, hoping that she might understand he wanted to go for real. He just wanted to have an out, so he didn't look like some dumb idiot if she wasn't actually interested. He'd really liked having her around and he hoped that he might even make enough money to actually offer her a salary, if only it meant that she would stick around. He knew it was a long shot anyway - she had a record number of NEWTs after all - but it was worth the shot all the same.

For some reason, she looked a little disappointed. But then her smile brightened. "I think that's an excellent idea, Marcus," she told him. "I'd love to go with you, as colleagues, or otherwise."

He wasn't entirely sure what _that_ meant, but he wasn't about to ask her if it was a real date or not. Instead, he'd just have to believe that it was. All, he could focus on was that she'd actually agreed to it, and said that she'd love to go with him. He was _actually_ going to be taking Hermione Granger as his date to somewhere.

Even if it was his own fundraiser.

"What color are your robes?" he asked. Even though he might not have been able to choose dress robes of his own, he knew to at least ask her so that he might dress to match.

Hermione gave him a pleased smile. "Blue. Light blue...sort of a periwinkle," she described.

Marcus _wasn't_ sure what periwinkle was, but he nodded like he did. At the very least, Adrian would know, and he was sure that his friend could be goaded into paying for some sort of periwinkle tie. Or maybe a small corsage to be worn on his lapel? Did people still do that after Hogwarts?

Salazar, he couldn't wait to tell Cass and Ades about what had happened. He bet they didn't think he'd have the guts to actually do it, and now they'd be stuck paying his exorbitant tailoring bill.

Needing to put some space between himself and Hermione, before he did something stupid like kiss her, Marcus mumbled something about preparing the pitch for his next lesson. There was no denying that he left the office with an extra spring in his step.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so excited that the fundraiser is finally here...I hope you like what I have planned for Hermione and Marcus. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten in a few days!

The day of the fundraiser dinner finally arrived, and Hermione knew that she should be nervously checking, and double-checking, and triple-checking all of the arrangements to make sure that everything would be absolutely perfect. She should be nervously hovering over everyone setting things up so that it could go off without a hitch and allow the children's Quidditch League to remain open.

But Hermione wasn't nervous that things were going to go well.

She was far more nervous about her date (possibly real date?) with Marcus Flint, who had proven to be so much more than the gruff meanie she'd expected.

For once in her life, she allowed herself to believe that she had adequately prepared everything for the fundraiser and instead focused on getting herself ready. Hermione wasn't stupid - she knew that she was a pretty witch, and with a little effort, she could even be considered beautiful. Taking the time, she made sure that her hair was done up impeccably, and slipped into her periwinkle dress.

The color had reminded her of her Yule Ball dress all those years ago, but the cut was much more daring, with a completely exposed back and thin straps holding the silky fabric up. She hoped that Marcus would like it.

Once she checked and then checked again that she looked her best, Hermione slipped into her heels and floo'ed over to the office, where she and Marcus had agreed to meet.

He was looking out the window at the tent that had been set up when she arrived. "Is everything looking okay? No issues?" she asked, worried that perhaps something had gone horribly wrong while she'd been too busy worrying about her hair.

Turning to face her, his expression changed when his eyes landed on her. "Wow," he said, somewhat stunned. "You look gorgeous."

Hermione blushed a bit, always happy to be appreciated, though. She looked him up and down, and noticed that his grey dress robes fit him _perfectly_ , showing off his well maintained physique. "You look great yourself," she answered the compliment. Smiling, she noticed that he wore a periwinkle flower on his lapel to match her dress.

"To answer your earlier question, no, everything is looking great," he complimented, stepping aside so that she could look out the window too. "I honestly can't believe that's my Quidditch pitch."

She had decided to plan the party out on the pitch, if only to save money and to remind the donors what they would actually be funding. She'd set up a tent and filled it with fairy lights and warming charms, so they would be sure to have a comfortable environment for the guests, even into the wee hours of the night. "It's so pretty," Hermione said with a sigh. "It turned out even better than I imagined."

"Well, we should go enjoy your hard work," Marcus said, before offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

Taking his arm, they made the short walk from the office to the tent and joined the other partygoers. Immediately, they were cornered by Valmai Morgan (who Marcus told her was a member of the Holyhead Harpies) and promised a donation that would cover the expense of the party itself. Hermione was impressed by such a generous gift and thanked the witch profusely, knowing that at the very least, she hadn't pissed away Marcus's remaining funds.

They mingled through the cocktail hour, catching up with some familiar faces from Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was actually rather decent that evening and told Marcus that he'd like his Scorpius to join the league during the next session. Then they'd chatted with Cho Chang, who'd shown up with none other than Harry.

At dinner, Hermione was seated next to Ludo Bagman, who pledged such an exorbitant donation that it could run the league for an entire year. Hermione wasn't sure that she _wanted_ to accept Ludo's ill gotten funds, but at the same time she knew it was for a good cause and couldn't turn it down.

As the alcohol flowed and more donations were made, it was clear that the evening was going to be a smashing success, and Hermione finally allowed herself to relax. She enjoyed listening to Marcus chat with some of his old teammates from Falmouth, though it was clear that he wasn't entirely comfortable being the center of attention. Many of his friends had commented that they hadn't even known he was running the children's Quidditch League at all.

Pulling Marcus by the hand to the dancefloor, she couldn't stop from teasing him a bit. "You _asked_ me to be your date to this thing," she goaded. "The least you could do is dance with me a little bit."

He seemed only too happy to oblige. He took her into his arms easily, one hand settling on the curve of her waist while the other took her hand. Hermione tried not to shiver at the feeling of his calloused hand at her bare back. Marcus easily moved them around the dancefloor, never stepping on her toes once, surprisingly graceful for a wizard so large.

"Thank you, for all of this," Marcus said, looking around the room at so many people happily enjoying themselves. "It's only with your help that I'll be able to keep the League going. I'm not exaggerating when I say I couldn't have done it without you."

Hermione blushed under the compliment, happy to be thanked. "Well, I wouldn't have worked so hard if you didn't so obviously believe in your work," she said.

"I love Quidditch," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "It's the only thing I've ever been good at."

She rolled her eyes. "As much as I doubt that, you are good at teaching, too. So add another skill to your list," she told him.

"Well, James will be happy," Marcus said, now that he could finally recognize that he wasn't going to have to shut down.

"Yes, he will be," Hermione agreed. "I only partly did it for him, though. Once I saw how much you loved your job, I knew that I couldn't let _your_ dreams fail either. Honestly, could you imagine doing anything else?"

"About that," Marcus said, tentatively, his fingers tightening at her waist.

But before he could talk more, one of the staff came up to them to alert Hermione of a minor problem that she would have to handle. "I have to take care of this," she said, feeling disappointed. "Meet me in the office in fifteen minutes?" she asked, not entirely done with her plans for the evening.

Marcus agreed, and Hermione went off to put out the one minor fire that had cropped up that night — a rather drunk Roger Davies who was trying to take home all the leftovers from dinner. It was annoying, but she handled him quickly enough by letting him take one potion. The rest would be divided between the staff.

Hermione felt giddy when she was walking back to the office, unable to wipe the smile from her face. She knew it was a bit bold asking Marcus to meet her there, especially when she didn't _really_ know how he felt about her. But, everything had been going so well that night that she just knew she had to at least try.

The lights were off in the shed, but she could easily make Marcus's hulking form out of the darkness.

"What did you want to meet-"

He started to talk, but Hermione couldn't stop to talk now, or else she'd lose her nerve. Surging forward, standing on the very tips of her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, sighing when their bodies pressed together tightly.

Marcus seemed a bit confused at first, but he quickly got his act together. He brought his big arms around her body, holding her to him more tightly, and deepened the kiss. It was a bit awkward at first, unpracticed, but once he seemed to stop thinking, he moved much more naturally.

Hermione moaned against his lips, loving the way that they moved together - not battling for dominance, but rather coaxing one another to something more pleasurable.

Just when she was thinking she would have to break the kiss to relieve her aching toes, Marcus was stumbling back until he met the edge of the desk. Sitting back against it, their heights grew more level and Hermione was able to lean into him. She used her fingers to run through his hair, toying at the ends.

Marcus was not an idle participant either. His hands ran up and down the bare skin of her back, leaving her covered in gooseflesh. Tentatively, he let one hand trail lower, so that he could give her arse a squeeze. He paused, as though he was worried Hermione might object, but she could do nothing but press against him harder.

She could feel his body reacting and while she wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there, she knew that it wouldn't be wise. For one, that might be moving a little too fast, especially when she didn't know what his feelings were for her. But, for two, they still had guests from the fundraiser out on the Quidditch pitch and she didn't fancy any of them wandering in on them.

Hermione pulled away, biting her lower lip to stop from grinning at hearing Marcus's groan of disappointment. He pulled her back in for one last lingering kiss, sucking her lower lip between his, soothing the hurt from her teeth with his tongue.

"As much as I would love to continue this," Hermione said, shivering from the feel of his lips on the skin of her neck. "I've got to get back out there to supervise. The night has gone perfectly so far, but I can't get too distracted now."

Marcus let his forehead rest against her shoulder. "You are a tease of the worst kind, Hermione Granger," he told her, though she could practically hear the smile on his face.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But as I said, I did want the night to go _perfectly_ , and it wouldn't have been perfect if I didn't get a kiss from my date."

She stepped out of the space between his long legs and waved her wand to right her dress and her hair. She was sure that her lips would look swollen and well-kissed, but nothing else would be out of place.

"Go ahead and I'll meet you out there in a few minutes," Marcus instructed her. "You'll save another dance for me?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed, before leaving the little shed behind. She wondered if anyone would realize what she'd been up to with Marcus, but surprised herself when she realized how little she cared if they did.

She was intercepted by Harry once she was out on the dance floor, who pulled her into a quick turn around the floor. "So...you and Marcus, hmm?" he asked with a smirk. "And here I thought you were just doing this for James."

Hermione laughed at her best friend's teasing. "I was originally just doing it for James," she agreed. "But I quickly learned that the job had other perks."

"And you aren't worried about him being a Slytherin?" Harry pressed.

She shook her head. "No, you were right. I was being silly. And, I've learned that _some_ Slytherin traits aren't all bad," she explained. "Seeing how much Marcus is willing to sacrifice for this job...his ambitions to even create something like this for the children, well... it's pretty sexy."

"Please don't pull me into the torrid details of your relationship," Harry scolded, making a fake disgusted face.

"Oh, Harry, don't be like that!" she said with a laugh, enjoying making her friend a little bit uncomfortable for once.

"Well, James will be pretty excited to learn that his Aunt Hermione is dating Coach Flint," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "So, you've got the Potter seal of approval."

Hermione could relax then, knowing that Harry didn't mind her...well, whatever it was with Marcus. The evening couldn't have gone any better.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I really hope that you guys enjoy this one. There will be one more chapter after this one. I can't believe Marcus May is almost over. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Beta love to mojowitchcraft!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

The night before, Marcus had practically floated all the way to his bed. Not only had the fundraiser been a smashing success (Hermione had told him earlier in the night that Malfoy's donation alone would keep them going for another season), but he'd been kissed by the witch of his dreams, too.

No amount of convincing on Cassius and Adrian's part had been able to change Marcus's mind that they were going _just_ as colleagues. But, Hermione had certainly cleared the air when the bold little witch had pressed herself against him, rather acting like she'd wanted to climb in like a tree. He'd been shocked at first, but then he'd gotten the snog of his life.

He could still remember the cashmere soft feel of the skin of her back under his fingertips.

And now that it was morning, Marcus almost couldn't believe that it was all a dream. But it wasn't a dream at all. It was real life, and it seemed for once that he was the wizard with all the luck.

Getting up for the day, he gave Bludger a scratch behind the ears on the way to the kitchen to make some breakfast before he strolled into work. Surely, he would be allowed to go into work a little bit late just this once, especially seeing as he wasn't going to be teaching any lessons that day. Maybe he should stop in on the way and get Hermione some flowers?

 _Salazar_ , he really did not know what he was doing. Perhaps a fire call to Ades or Cass would be appropriate.

His eggs were cooking on the hob by the time that he went to grab the paper off the open window, curious to see if his little fundraiser might have made a mention in the society pages. He unfurled it and nearly spat out his tea when he saw the front page.

 _Greedy Granger Plays Two Wizards_ read the headline. There was a picture of Hermione kissing him, throwing herself against him really. And then next to it was a picture of her and Potter dancing with one another, her nuzzling her face against his chest. _Does the muggleborn upstart have no shame, getting intimate with two different men less than fifteen minutes apart? She'll do anything to stay on top, says source close to Granger._

Marcus felt his good mood drop from under him, hating the way that his worst fears had been proven right. Had she only been using him to make Potter jealous?

Embarrassment twisted in his stomach, feeling that he'd been taken advantage of. But then, his hurt feelings boiled over and he was only left with a growing anger that Hermione would treat him like that. He couldn't...no, he _wouldn't_ let her get away with it. Grabbing the Daily Prophet in a fist, he marched over to his floo before he could even bother to get dressed for the day.

When he walked into the office, Hermione was already there waiting for him, hands pressed to her hips. "Oh, good of you to show up, Flint," she said, her bitterness clear in her tone.

It made Marcus pause for a moment, wondering just what _he'd_ done to piss her off. But then he remembered the real reason that he was there, and threw the newspaper down on her desk. "Listen, I don't appreciate being used, Granger," he snarled at her.

"Yeah, well neither do I," Hermione answered, taking a step closer to him and not giving any hint of backing down. "You have a lot of nerve, Marcus Flint, playing on my emotions like that."

"I played with _your_ emotions?" he asked, with a mean little laugh. "You were the one who was just using _me_ to make Potter jealous."

He was so hurt, he didn't notice the confused look on Hermione's face. "Harry?" she asked, sounding confused.

"You could have just told me that you only wanted to go to the gala as colleagues," Marcus insisted, stepping closer to her until she had to strain her neck to keep eye contact with him. "You didn't have to pretend to be into me to get me to go with you, and you certainly didn't need to lead me on by kissing me."

Hermione blinked owlishly at him. "What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, more confused than ever. "I don't want to make Harry _jealous_. He's like a brother to me."

"Don't lie," Marcus continued, her words still not registering for him. "It's right there on the front page of the _Prophet!_ " he insisted, picking up the paper and pointing at their moving picture.

She grabbed the paper from him and moved it to show a story that was below the fold. "You are one to talk!" she said. "How could you not tell me that you were accepting a job with the Falcons? Did the children's Quidditch League even mean anything to you?"

Marcus blushed a bit. He _had_ meant to tell her that he'd accepted an assistant coaching position with the Falmouth Falcons after they'd offered him one, but he'd gotten too distracted by her lips. "I was going to tell you," he said, hoping he sounded suitably regretful.

"Oh really? When?" she demanded, even more upset. "After I'd done all this hard work saving your League only to have you...I don't know what, sell it for a profit? I thought this was what you wanted to do with the rest of your life."

"I'm not going to sell," Marcus insisted, knowing it would be the last thing he could do. Now, though, he could afford to hire some more coaches, make things a bit more legitimate, and he'd be making significant money coaching a professional team. "It is what I want to do."

"Then why did you take a job with the Falcons?," she questioned, pressing her finger into his bare chest. "I only worked so hard here because of you. Actually, don't tell me the answer...you've used me to get what you wanted, and I'm just _disappointed_ in you really."

"Well then we are even I suppose," Marcus said. "Since you used me to get what you want from Potter! Well, I hope you'll be _very_ happy together," he added sarcastically. He couldn't bear the thought of Hermione with Potter - one happy family.

"Oh you dolt!" Hermione said with a half-scream. "I've already told you that I'm not interested in Harry - the idea of it is quite frankly repulsive. I like _you_!" she nearly shouted at him.

Marcus blinked at her for a moment, letting her words really sink in. "You like me? Like...romantically?" he asked, almost unable to believe that she was confirming what he could only dream about.

"Yes, although I'm rethinking it now!" Hermione continued. "I've been in here for weeks watching you teach and daydreaming about what our children might look like!"

That truly stunned him. At the same time, Marcus didn't think that he could find the witch more attractive he she tried. Scratch that, maybe if she were wearing nothing but his old uniform and some knickers, then maybe she would be.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Hermione's mind was finally catching up with her mouth. "Merlin!" she shouted, before pressing her hands to cover her reddening face. "Did I say that out loud?" she squeaked.

"Yes," Marcus said, a huge grin forming on his face.

"Oh Merlin, oh _Godric_ ," she continued. "I have to go!" She tried to make her way towards the little floo so that she could escape.

Only, Marcus wasn't about to let her go that easy, unless they were _both_ going to her flat. "You can't take it back now," he said, reaching out to grab her by the arm, turning her back to face him again. "Not when it sounds so nice."

Hermione stilled, peeking up at him through her eyelashes, looking nervous that she would find him laughing at her. "Nice?" she questioned, looking a bit dumbfounded.

"Yes, nice, because, you see, I really like you, too," he explained, still smiling broadly. "Romantically," he clarified.

"You do?" Hermione asked, now unable to believe that her feelings might be returned.

"Yes," Marcus confirmed, surprised by how good it felt to get it all out in the open. And how much nicer it was to know that Hermione felt the same way about him as he did about her. "Apparently I even told Adrian and Cassius how much I fantasized about your lips while I was drunk in Copenhagen," he said, running his thumb over her plump lower lip.

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, before her face was transformed by something naughty. She opened her lips and caught his thumb, giving it a tiny, playful bite before flicking her tongue against the digit.

Marcus groaned, feeling all of his blood rush south seeing her that way. Was it possible that this was all just a dream? No, he knew that even dreams didn't feel this good. He couldn't wait a minute longer, he had to kiss her.

He pulled her towards him until they were pressed tightly, not at all embarrassed if she could feel how hard he was for her. Dipping his head, he caught her lips in a searing kiss. She deepened the kiss immediately, not shy about taking what she wanted. He gave her lower lip a quick nip, loving the hear the way she moaned, pressing herself up against him.

Stumbling back, Marcus lead them towards his desk chair before collapsing into it, pulling her down to sit on his lap. _Salazar_ , how many of his dreams had included this exact scenario? Hermione seemed well up for it though, because she was quickly straddling him, her lips having never left his.

Marcus pressed his hands against her hips, encouraging Hermione to rock against him. It felt too good to stop, but at the same time he worried that the friction alone might be enough to send him over the edge. It just wouldn't do to embarrass himself in front of her the very first time they were together.

She had her hands in his hair, the dull scratch of her nails sending shivers up his spine while she held him in place against her. She wasn't afraid to direct him where to go and was soon encouraging him to kiss down the side of her neck. Marcus, driven by some primitive possessiveness, was wild at the thought of marking her neck with love bites, showing off to the world that Hermione Granger was his witch.

 _Unbelievable_.

When his lips got to the edge of her blouse, though, Marcus knew that he wanted to see all of her. But, his tiny shed was not exactly the ideal location for it, especially if this was about to be their first time. Hermione deserved more than that - a soft bed under her back and not a rack of child-sized brooms to look at. Pulling away from her was one of the hardest things he had to go, but he knew he would be rewarded.

"Uh, do you want to take this back to my place?" he asked, biting back a groan as he watched her breasts rise and fall from exertion. She was beautifully pink, and he couldn't wait to peel back her layers of clothing to finally see how far her blush went.

Hermione hopped off of him and onto wobbly legs, giving him a little smirk. "I thought that you'd never ask," she teased.

Marcus couldn't believe his luck. He'd gone in thinking he'd had his heart broken, but now his wildest dreams were actually coming true. While he knew that there would still be a lot of discussions in their future (were they _actually_ dating now, for one, because, _Salazar_ , he hoped so), right now Marcus just intended on fully enjoying his Sunday with Hermione.

He practically ran back to the fireplace, eager to get her home.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This is the last chapter and I really hope that you enjoy it -- it's one year on from the last one. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. If you enjoyed the pairing, I have written it a couple of times, so you can check out my profile for more of that. Beta love to mojowitchcraft, who I am so thankful for reading this over!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and the story!

Hermione looked in the mirror while she put in her pearl earrings, putting her finishing touches on her evening look. They had been a gift from Marcus for her birthday, but they were really far too elegant to wear for anything other than formal events. They did pair perfectly with her slinky, silver dress, and she hoped to wow her boyfriend of just nearly one year when she finally emerged from the bedroom they now shared.

Part of her envied how little time it took him to get ready, even for something as fancy as the second annual Children's Quidditch Fundraiser Gala. It had been such a smashing success the year before that they had decided to hold it again, and received almost double the number of RSVPs as the prior year.

Hermione was proud to be a part of the small contribution to something as wonderful as the Children's Quidditch League.

She had worried that it would flounder without Marcus's constant presence, but she was pleasantly surprised at how it had done once he had taken a role as an assistant coach with the Falmouth Falcons.

She couldn't understand why he would want to leave, but he had assured her that he would never actually leave his baby (as he called it) behind. Adrian had helped him during contract negotiations that he could continue to coach one team at all times.

That's not to say that he could do both. His new job did necessitate Marcus taking a step back from the Children's Quidditch league, but with their substantial increase in funding, they were able to hire people to run it better, and get some new talent. Graham Montague and Terrance Higgs were hired on as coaches, and Millicent Bulstrode (who turned out to be Marcus's cousin) was hired on to lead the business side of things.

Hermione was a little skeptical at the time that it was little more than nepotism at first, but Millicent proved to be an _excellent_ businesswoman. She was so friendly and welcoming with the families, but absolutely ruthless when she needed to be. Hermione was impressed to say the least, and felt like the business was being left in good hands.

Marcus had tried to persuade her to stay on and help run the financials, but Hermione knew that it wasn't quite what she wanted to do. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to it completely, having grown fairly attached to Marcus's project. She agreed to head the committee that would plan the annual fundraising gala, although to be honest, it wasn't too much of a committee so far.

No, Hermione knew that her calling really was at the Ministry, and she eventually took a job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She was heading a fledgling little division now that was meant to help muggleborns bridge the gap between the magical world and the muggle.

After catching enough people's ears about how unsettling it was to not know anything of the magical world, or even that she _was_ a witch, until she had turned eleven, she was able to convince people of the need to begin introductions sooner. And, while she'd had a very compassionate Minerva McGonagall to explain to her parents about Hogwarts, she did not think that that duty should be left to untrained Hogwarts professors.

She was lucky that the Minister and Wizengamot had agreed, and decided to make changes to the way that the wizarding world would welcome muggleborns. Currently, they could expect a visit by the time children were due to start primary school. Hermione was hopeful that younger muggleborns might soon be able to participate in things like the Children's Quidditch League to better integrate them into the magical society, but she was taking baby steps.

Now that she was working at the Ministry, Hermione had the dubious pleasure of being cornered fairly frequently by Cassius Warrington, who was always keen to tell her the latest gossip. Hermione was just glad that Marcus's friends seemed to like her well enough.

She was also able to have lunch with some regularity with Harry, which was nice. She would never grow out of enjoying spending time with her good friend. Hermione and Marcus would join him and his sons for dinner just about every other week as well. James was over the moon that they were dating, and was constantly pestering Hermione about when he could start calling him _Uncle_ Marcus.

The thought always gave her a little thrill.

If she was honest, Hermione hoped it happened soon. They had moved into Marcus's flat together after only dating for three months and she'd never felt as content in a relationship as she did with him. There was something about her big, burly Marcus that made her heart race, and there was something in his secret soft side that made her feel secure. She was desperately in love with him.

Once she was confident that she looked _perfect_ for the night's events, Hermione stepped out of the bedroom to present herself to Marcus. She found him waiting in his new dress robes, drinking a firewhiskey.

He stood up when he saw her, his grey-blue eyes opening comically wide. "Wow, you look...do we have to go to the fundraiser?" he asked, not hiding the hungry way he looked her up and down, definitely appreciating the dramatic slit up one leg. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh Marcus," she said, pulling her wand out. "You've messed up your hair," she groaned, knowing that it was just about the only thing he'd spent any time on that evening.

"Honestly, I'm finding it a little hard to care about anything other than getting you back in that bedroom right now," he said with a chuckle. He made short work of the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

She pulled back so that she could see his face. "You know that we have to go to the Fundraiser," Hermione said with a wry grin. "Even if you don't believe me, you are part of the draw. I promise."

Now that he was a very promising coach in the professional Quidditch League, Marcus was having to contend with a new found popularity. People wanted a chance to talk to him, as it was no secret that Falmouth went from a lower to mid-table team to finishing in the top four once he'd joined and brought loads of young new talent with him.

Marcus let go of her and offered his arm. "You're right," he agreed without much of a fuss. "We should go."

"I am?" she asked, feeling a little perplexed that he'd given up on seducing her so quickly. Maybe her dress wasn't as spectacular as she thought.

"Yeah," he said, waving off her concern. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave, the sooner I can get you back in my bed."

"Our bed," she corrected, before letting him lead her to the fireplace.

The party was in full swing by the time that they arrived. They were quickly intercepted by Oliver Wood, who wanted to donate some of his time and teach one season with the wee ones, as he said it. Hermione thought it was a wonderful idea and pointed him in Millie's direction.

Next, they were waylaid by Harry Potter, who had brought a very pretty looking Daphne Greengrass as his date this year (a match Hermione truly did not see coming). Harry practically begged Marcus to give him a dance with her, so Hermione found herself being passed off like some kind of farm animal. She would have minded it more if she didn't like Harry so much.

He kept her for two dances, but then she begged off, knowing that she really _couldn't_ leave Marcus alone with these vultures for too long. They were probably boring him to tears!

She went to look for him, but as she was walking off the dance floor, she found herself waltzing right into Adrian Pucey's arms.

"You are looking exceptional tonight, Granger," he quipped. "I'm surprised Marcus even let you out of the flat tonight."

"Ha, very funny Pucey," she answered, but was happy to dance with him. Of Marcus's friends, Adrian was the smartest, but he was also the sneakiest and the most ambitious, too. You could never let your guard down too much with him.

They settled into a discussion of one of the Ministry's latest proposed laws all the same. Adrian took her around the room and before she knew it Hermione had danced three songs with him. "I should really find Marcus. Don't want him to be jealous," she told him.

"Oh, just one more song?" Adrian asked, spinning her again so that he could look over her shoulder.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the former Slytherin. "Pucey, why do I feel like you are trying to keep me away from Marcus?" she questioned, suddenly feeling very suspicious.

"I'm not keeping you away from him," he answered, trying to seem offended. "Only...I just remembered, he asked me to have you meet him in the old office."

Annoyed that he had forgotten to give her the message, Hermione left Adrian on the dance floor and headed off in the direction of the old shed. A new office had been built to accommodate the growing staff, but Marcus still kept his old office for when he was working. She was wondering why everyone was acting so odd, and she could only hope that Marcus didn't think she'd stood him up.

The shed was completely dark when she entered. "Marcus?" she called out. Getting no reply, Hermione figured that her boyfriend had probably returned to the party. Cursing Adrian, she turned to leave.

But then, dozens of tiny fairy lights lit up the little shed, revealing Marcus's hulking form, down on one knee in the middle of the room. It was oddly reminiscent of the time that he came into her flat and begged her to help him save his Quidditch League.

Hermione gasped, excitement filling her veins and anticipation making her heart pound. Was this it?

Marcus struggled with the pocket of his dress robes before he liberated a tiny, velvet box. "Hermione Granger, you gave me my dreams back and now I find myself wanting to fulfill a daydream of yours," he said, before opening the box to show off a glittering engagement ring. "Will you marry me, and find out what our children look like?"

Hermione choked on a laugh, tears in her eyes. It was just perfect. "Yes, yes, of course I will!" she agreed enthusiastically. "I'll marry you, Marcus Flint!"

She crossed the room, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a lingering kiss. Then she pulled back, eager to get the ring on her finger. "It's gorgeous," she whispered, before kissing him again. "Screw heading back to our own bed — want to do it here? We never actually christened your office," she enticed him, knowing how much she wanted him.

He looked at her with fire in his eyes, before he groaned, standing up. "As much as I'd love to finally take you on my desk, we do have dozens of people out there who want to congratulate us," he answered. Standing from the floor, he shook his head. "Salazar, I wish I would have thought _that_ through better."

"So they all knew?" she asked. "Merlin, I knew Adrian was up to something, that little snake!"

He gave her one last kiss. "Later, I promise," he said, before he led her out of the shed, holding hands.

A crowd of smiling faces and shouts of congratulations met them. Hermione wasn't able to keep herself from smiling. Champagne was passed around, and the newly engaged couple were happy to spend the evening celebrating the next chapter of their lives together.

"I can't believe you did all this," Hermione whispered to him as they snuck away, eager to do some celebrating on their own.

"I had some help," Marcus revealed. "But I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me, and how much I love you."

"More than Quidditch?" Hermione teased.

"Much more than Quidditch," Marcus agreed, leading her through the fireplace and back to their flat.

"Good," Hermione answered, although he didn't doubt him. "Because I love you too. And I can't wait to be with you for the rest of my life." She was so lucky that she'd found Marcus. Who would have thought that something good could have actually come out of Quidditch? Certainly not her, but she was glad that she'd made that insane promise to James because it had given her the love of her life.


End file.
